Fortune's Fools
by jmd0820
Summary: When a robbery goes wrong, Absaroka's residents are caught in the crossfire
1. Chapter 1

_"O, I am fortune's fool!" Romeo and Juliet_

Ch. 1

8:34 PM

Bad things happened to good people. Walt Longmire knew this. He knew that sometimes it seemed to be fate. People you loved came down with fatal illnesses. People you loved were taken on the whim of addicts and criminals. Good people were driven mad with obsession. He knew sometimes the choices people made had a direct correlation to the end results and the bad things that happened. He had always prided himself on taking responsibility for his actions. It was one of the first life lessons his father had taught him. He had, in turn, attempted to teach his own daughter the very same lesson. One couldn't simply blame the cosmos for the tragedy in life all the time. Sometimes, you had to see the truth for what it was.

He had lived this moment before, both in reality and in his darkest nightmares. It had been a series of moments that had dragged on for an eternity. Ever calm and cool on the outside, his nerves had been warring on the inside. In his dreams, it left him in a cold sweat, unable to close his eyes for fear it would recur. The players were somewhat different. The scenario was also not the same. But the possible end results were just as unthinkable and just as disturbing.

"No one has to get hurt here."

He tried to keep his voice calm and even. Tricks of the trade. This wasn't even his trade anymore. Walt kept his hands steadily in plain sight. No sudden movements. Cop 101. Inside, he was having the same war. That much was the same. That much would never change.

The man was sweating. His nerves were getting the better of him. He would also be having an internal debate. Was it worth it? How had it wound up like this? No one ever planned for the worst case. They lied to themselves and told themselves they were ready. But you can't be. Until you've lived it, it's not possible. The man's hand trembled ever so slightly. The movement caused the tip of the handgun to shift against her head. Walt saw her swallow. It was the only tell at how nervous she was. She, too, had lived this moment. Her life had hung in the balance once before on the edge of someone's finger. Her eyes were fixated on his. Even, as he spoke to the man, they held her gaze. They both sat precariously on the edge of oblivion. Her literal life and the life he existed in hung simultaneously in the air.

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, man. I'll kill her. I will."

It was a theory he had no desire to test.

"No one thinks you're stupid. All I want is for everyone to walk out of here."

The man's eyes flickered to the corner of the room.

"Little late for that."

Walt felt his jaw clench.

"There's still time. He's still alive. This can still have a good ending."

"Good? I'll be in prison. How is that good?"

"You won't be dead. You won't be a cop killer. You'll have a shot at freedom once you've done your time."

Walt could feel sweat rolling down his back He hoped it wasn't visible. Calm was important. The man in front of him sniffled a little and made a face. Stress was etched into every facet of his body from his face to his posture. He took a deep breath.

"It's too late."

14 1/2 Hours Earlier

He knew she was smiling, even though her face was buried in the white pillow case. Her arms were under it, holding it in place.

"C'mon, Vic. Humor me."

She rolled from her stomach to her side, her hair falling into her face. She brushed it back and blew a few strands from her face. Resting her elbow on the pillow, she propped her head up on her palm and tried to look serious. She was failing miserably. With him, in private, she had no poker face. She had long given up on attempting to hide her feelings from him. He was gradually learning the same. It was one of the things that had initially drawn them together. Acceptance without judgement.

She nodded her chin towards his left.

"The blue one."

"Really? I feel like I wear blue a lot."

"You wear blue denim all the time, Walt. Looks good though. Brings out your eyes."

"That's not really what I'm going for."

Her shoulders moved in a shrug.

"You asked."

He studied the shirts he was holding and sighed. He stuck them back on the closet rack and sat on the bed. Doubt clouded his eyes.

"Maybe this isn't the best idea."

"Why do you say that?"

"The goal of retiring was to not be in law enforcement anymore."

"Walt, it's the police academy and all they're asking you to do is consult once in a while with students. Are they even paying you?"

"Yep."

"So, call it semi-retired."

She ran her free hand over his bare leg. The physical contact caused an immediate reaction in him. Pavlov's dogs had nothing on him. He wondered how she possessed the ability to make him a fifteen year old boy again.

"You're trying to distract me."

She smiled a smile he found deliciously mischievous.

"Is it working?"

"Yep."

She sat up, letting the sheet fall away from her. He reached for her on impulse, his hand closing around the back of her neck and pulling her towards him faster than she was coming on he own. His lips met hers. He felt her hands tangle into the hair at the back of his head, pulling him impossibly close.

7:26 AM

"Are you still gonna be able to meet Henry tonight?"

Walt fiddled with his shirt collar and nodded. Vic set her coffee mug down and moved in front of him. Her hands fluttered lightly around, straightening the collar of the new shirt. He hated new clothes. They always felt stiff and refused to cooperate.

"There, don't touch."

"Yes, ma'am."

She lifted her cup and took a sip.

"So?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

She nodded and drained the rest of her coffee. Setting the mug in the sink, she ran the back of her hand over her lips.

"Okay, I gotta run."

She rose up on her toes to kiss him lightly, while adjusting her belt and cuffs.

"Good luck."

He smiled a little.

"Something tells me I'll need it."

She patted his chest.

"You'll be fine."

She was gone like a breeze. That's what she always reminded him of. He forced his mind back to the present. It was time to get this show on the road.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2

8:35 PM

Nothing had changed. He wasn't exactly a hostage negotiator. Being a small town sheriff didn't necessarily prepare one for every scenario.

"It's not too late. It's not too late until you pull that trigger. So let's not do that. Just lower the gun."

"Why, so you can jump me."

"You've seen too many movies. Do you really think I'd risk that."

He could see Vic's fingers flexing down at her side. It was an uncomfortable position she was being held in. The man had her in front of him mostly. He wasn't terribly tall but his whole forearm was under her neck, holding her firmly to him. His free hand pressed the gun against her temple. Every time he moved, he dragged her around with him. At the very least, she was going to have some bruises. Walt hoped that was all she would have.

Her eyes were on him again. They weren't their normal gold tone. In the dark bar, they looked dark brown. That was the first thing he had noticed about her. The ever changing tone of her eyes.

Vic willed herself to remain calm. She kept telling herself that, at least, Walt was here. Her faith in him was unshaken. He wouldn't do anything to put her at risk. She could feel the man's chest bumping against her with rapid breath. Sweat from the front of his shirt was dampening the back of hers. His breath was hot on her neck and he smelled like beer and cigarettes. Her arm was hurting from being pulled around. She flexed her fingers a little, trying to relieve some of the discomfort. His tenseness was alarming. It made him more likely to make a mistake. It made him more likely to react.

12:13 PM

"I'm going over to the Busy Bee to pick up some lunch. Want something?"

Vic glanced up at Ferg, trying to process what he was saying. She had been engrossed in her computer and her mind felt muddled by his intrusion.

"Uh...sure. Just bring me a salad. Thanks."

He smiled and disappeared out the door. He was more the old Ferg these days. His making up with Meg had done wonders for his attitude. They were engaged. Sometimes she had to smile at their young love and then the thought made her feel depressingly old. She knew she had never been that way with Sean. Her world had been jaded even then and choices had been made for the wrong reasons. She hadn't possessed that kind of naivete when they had been together early on. Before things had gone so bad for them.

Her cell phone buzzed on the desk next to her elbow.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Okay."

"Just okay?"

"It's interesting."

Vic smiled inwardly. He would never learn to carry a conversation.

"I'll be leaving soon so we're still good for 6:30."

Vic nodded to herself.

"Okay. I'll meet you at the cabin when I leave here. Need to change anyway."

"K, see you then."

Vic hung up and looked down at the darkened screen on her phone. He still preferred a real conversation to any kind of texting. Some things never changed.

5:16 PM

"So how did it go?"

She heard him grunt from inside the shower. Vic stood at the bathroom mirror braiding her hair.

"Sounds fascinating."

The water turned off and the curtain pulled to the side in a swift motion. Walt pulled a towel off the rack and ran it over his face.

"It's different."

Vic smirked at him.

"Well, so are you."

She watched as he dried himself off and ran the towel over his hair. He brushed by her into the bedroom and began to dress. Vic finished up and trailed behind him.

"I think I've just been doing the same thing so long, it's hard. You know."

Vic's expression was soft.

"Yeah, I know. You don't have to do it, Walt."

He pulled on a clean shirt and began to work at the buttons.

"Aren't you the one who is always telling me I should try new things?"

"Yes, but only if they make you happy."

He smiled a little and cocked his head to one side.

"Like you?"

A wide grin crossed her face.

"Well, I wasn't gonna say it but..."

His smiled widened and he pulled her to him. Softly he kissed her, his hands sliding down her back. Vic returned the kiss and then wriggled away.

"Uh-uh. Keep it in your pants until later."

Red crept up his neck.

"Later. Right."

8:36 PM

"I'm not armed."

Walt slowly extended his arms showing his entire torso.

"At least lower the gun and let her go."

The man's hand quivered.

"You probably got people waiting to take a shot."

Walt shook his head.

"This is Durant, Wyoming. We don't have a SWAT team or anything like that. There's four law enforcement officers and that's it. Everyone wants this to end peacefully. Trust me on that."

"I don't even know you, man."

"You're going to have to trust someone at some point. Just lower the gun. I'm not asking you to give it up. No one else in here is armed. There's no need to take a chance on it going off before you're sure you want to take that step."

The man's dark eyes settled on Walt. Vic could feel his arm relax slightly. He lowered the gun away from her head. Relief washed over her and she could tell by the look on Walt's face, he felt the same. He gave her a push towards one of the small tables.

"Go sit over there."

Vic complied, rubbing her neck. Walt could see red extending across her skin where the man's arm had been holding her.

"You okay?"

Walt thought his own voice sounded odd.

"Fine."

Vic's was sharp, concise. Walt could see the wheels turning in her mind. Walt glanced to the slumped over figure in the corner.

"I need you to let me get him out of here."

The man shook his head.

"No way. I did what you wanted. I'm not holding a gun on anyone. No more favors."

Walt frowned.

"So far no one has died and I'd like to keep it that way."

The man made a face.

"It's an arm shot, man. He's not gonna die."

It was a valid argument and one Walt didn't want to push. Walt turned his eyes to Vic.

"Can you go check on him?"

She nodded and rose slowly, her gaze on the man who had just been holding a gun to her head. He gave her a cursory glance and nodded.

"Go ahead. Nothing stupid."

"Right."

She moved slowly to the corner and knelt down. The man groaned a little as she checked the wound. He had covered it with a piece of his shirt, which was no soaked through with blood. Vic chewed her bottom lip and stood up.

"I'm going to get something clean to put over it."

The man nodded.

"Fine. Hurry. I don't like you moving around."

She moved quickly behind the bar and came up with a clean pile of rags and towels. Moving back to his side, she tossed aside the old makeshift bandage and wrapped it cleanly. His head tilted slightly towards hers and she ran a quick hand over his black hair.

"Hang on, Henry. It's gonna be okay."


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

8:50 PM

"What's your name?"

Walt's voice broke the tense silence.

"What do you care?"

"I'm Walt. This is Vic. That guy is Henry."

The man glanced over at Vic who was sitting with Henry.

"Vic?"

She cleared her throat.

"It's short for Victoria."

His eyes stayed on her.

"Victoria. That's pretty. Why don't you use it."

Vic shrugged.

"My family always called me Vic."

He nodded.

"You got a big family?"

"Four brothers. Only girl."

He smiled a little at her.

"I'm an only child. Always wanted a brother."

"They can be a pain the ass but I wouldn't trade them. What's your name?"

Her voice was soft. He considered her question for a long moment, his eyes downcast on his gun.

"Greg."

Her eyes flicked briefly to Walt and then back to Greg.

"Do you mind if I ask how old you are, Greg?"

He raised his eyes to her.

"What difference does that make?"

"You just look young. Too young for all this."

"I was never young."

With that, he rose and began to pace.

6:15 PM

They entered the Red Pony and Walt's eyes scanned the room. It was starting to get crowded but Henry Standing Bear always stood out. He spotted him at a corner table, one of the less crowded parts of the room. Henry smiled when his dark eyes settled on the two of them. He rose as they approached the table.

"You are early."

They all sat down around the table.

"So are you."

Henry nodded.

"I have been here for a while. I still own it so I was checking on some things."

The waitress brought over beers Henry must have already asked for.

"How's the casino."

"Good, it is definitely a different business than simply running a bar. My employees are good people, though. It is nice to be able to help my people."

Walt nodded and took a swallow of beer. Facing the door, he noticed a young man come in. He wasn't sure why he noticed him. Maybe because it was not a familiar face. The man went to the bar and sat down. Walt turned his attention back to Henry who had Vic laughing with a story about a drunk gambler. He had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. Vic glanced at him.

"What?"

He nodded towards the bar.

"You recognize that guy?"

Both she and Henry shook their heads.

"Something wrong?"

Walt shook his head slightly.

"I don't know."

He stood up and started towards the man. Vic caught him by the arm.

"Walt, you're not the Sheriff anymore. You just can't harass people."

He grimaced. Old habits die hard. He paused.

"Are you armed?"

Vic shook her head.

"No, my weapon is in the Bronco outside."

Her voice was wrapped with confusion.

"Walt, what is it?"

"Something's not right."

He handed her the keys to the Bronco. Vic left and returned minutes later. The young man was still sitting at the bar. He had a beer but he wasn't really drinking it. He kept glancing around. Vic nodded towards the back of his denim jacket.

"He's carrying."

"Yeah I noticed that. Not unusual but he's giving me a bad feeling."

"How do you want to play it?"

He glanced around the bar. It was crowded now. Walt turned and looked to Henry.

"Pull the fire alarm?"

"What?"

Henry looked at him incredulously.

"Pull the fire alarm so these people will go outside."

"Walt, are you sure about this?"

Walt shook his head.

"No, but I'm also not willing to bet lives on it."

Henry nodded and left them alone. Walt glanced nervously at Vic and then back to the man. Seconds later, the fire alarm started to go off. There was a rumble of moans through the crowd as people looked around in confusion and started to shuffle towards the door. The man stood and Walt saw his hand go to his back. He grabbed the bar tender by his arm as the gun emerged from under his jacket. Vic pulled hers simultaneously.

"Hey!"

He whirled and fired. The gunshot caused the stragglers to push their way out the door. The shot was wide of Vic but she heard a grunt behind her. Walt saw Henry grab his arm.

"Henry!"

The bar tender took the chance and ran for the door but the young man grabbed her arm and trained his gun on Vic.

"Drop it!"

"You drop it."

"No, ma'am, I don't think so. I think that if you don't put that gun down, I'm gonna blow this nice girl's head off."

Vic kept her gun trained on him. Walt stepped forward.

"If she lowers it, will you let the young lady go?"

His gun on Vic, he moved his eyes to Walt.

"Who the hell are you?"

"That's not important. But that is a Sheriff's deputy. So I would think twice about shooting her."

The young man moved the gun to Walt.

"Maybe I'll just shoot you then."

Walt nodded towards Henry.

"I need to check on him."

"He's fine."

"He's been shot."

Walt's voice was calm but firm. The young man moved his gun back to Vic.

"Drop it."

"Vic, lower it."

She glanced at Walt.

"You can't be serious."

Walt looked back to the young man.

"Will you let her go?"

He indicated the frightened young woman whose arm was still being held tightly. The man glanced at her and nodded. Vic lowered the gun. He released his hold and the young woman ran out the door. He kept his weapon trained on Vic.

"Lay it on the ground or the next bullet kills that man."

He was talking about Henry, who has slid himself into a corner and was trying to tend to his wounded arm.

"Vic."

She heard Walt's voice. It was calm. She nodded.

"Fine."

Vic laid the gun on the floor.

"Kick it away."

The gun made a scratching noise as it slid across the floor. Keeping his gun up, he moved over and picked it up. Tucking it into his pants, he turned back to them.

"Looks like it's the 4 of us."

9:01 PM

Walt knew by now there would be a crowd outside. Hostage situations were big news. He sighed. He had seen enough death in his time as Sheriff. He didn't want to see anymore. Greg was sitting in a chair, his legs stiff with tension. He still held the gun in their general direction. Walt had noticed he seemed to only answer questions that came from Vic. He glanced at her every now and then, trying to make eye contact.

"So, Vic, are you married?"

She had been resting her head in her hands.

"Why, you planning to ask me out?"

He smiled a little.

"I figure we're all stuck here. We might as well get to know each other."

"Not anymore."

"Divorced, huh. My parents are divorced. It sucks. Got any kids?"

Walt noticed the lightening fast flash of pain that shot through her eyes.

"No."

"That's something. Divorce does shitty things to kids. Have you ever lost someone you loved, Vic? Really loved."

"Yes."

He waited in silence, his eyebrows raised in question. Vic shook her head.

"It's personal."

He studied her and nodded.

"Isn't everything."

Silence descended over him. He turned his dark eyes to Walt.

"You used to be a cop?"

"Sheriff. I was the Sheriff."

"Quit?"

"Retired."

"You rich or something?"

Walt shook his head.

"No."

"My old man still works. Can't afford to retire he says."

"Where does your father live, Greg?"

Greg's jawed tensed. It was clear his father was not his favorite topic.

"Texas now."

"What does he do?"

Greg shook his head.

"I don't wanna talk about him."

He glanced at the door.

"You think they're going to come in here?"

"At some point, yes."

"Shouldn't they call or something? Ask me what I want?"

Walt leaned forward.

"What do you want? What happened that this all seemed like a good idea?"

The young man's eyes became watery.

"Have you ever lost someone you love, former Sheriff Walt?"

Walt nodded his head.

"My wife died a few years ago. She was murdered."

Greg made a face.

"That sucks."

"Yeah, it did."

"But you're with her now?"

He jerked his head towards Vic.

"I seen the way you look at her, man. It ain't no secret."

Walt nodded.

"Yep."

Greg gave Vic a rueful smile.

"Guess that means you'll say no if I did ask you out."


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

7:36 PM

Walt stood eying the young man. He couldn't be thirty years old. He had dark eyes and dark hair that needed cutting. He had the skin tone of someone who got too much sun but still looked unwell. His clothes were jeans, a t-shirt, and denim jacket. Clearly, he was not well off. His scuffed boots looked like they had seen better days and Walt wondered if they even fit him. He paced the room, gun in hand. Henry still sat slumped in the corner. He had managed to wrap his injured arm but Walt couldn't be sure if he was conscious at this point.

"Shit, shit shit. This was not supposed to go down like this."

"How did you expect it to go down? You were going to rob the bar while it was full?"

He whirled on Vic.

"Shut up! If you people had stayed out of it, none of this would have happened. Shit. I gotta think."

He rubbed at his head with his free hand.

"I just...I just needed some money. I need to get the hell out of this God forsaken state. I just needed some damn money."

9:16 PM

The phone behind the bar rang and they all jumped. Greg stared at it but made no move to answer it.

"There's your call. Talk to them."

"And say what? Something stupid like a want a chopper so I can fly out of here."

Walt shook his head.

"No, so you can negotiate your surrender."

"Surrender. That's funny."

"If you give yourself up willingly, the state will take that into consideration, Greg. It'll show them that you see the wrong in what you've done. It can help at your sentencing."

Greg huffed at him. The phone had stopped ringing.

"Maybe you can be my lawyer."

Walt smiled a little at him.

"My daughter was a lawyer?"

"Maybe she can be mine then. You can put in a good word."

Walt shook his head.

"She's Sheriff now. Don't think it'll work out. She's probably outside now."

Greg glanced towards the door.

"You think there's a lot of them?"

"By now. Probably."

"They're gonna kill me."

"No, it doesn't have to end like that. We can all end this the right way, Greg."

Greg looked over to Vic who was still sitting on the floor next to Henry.

"What you think, Vic. Want to all walk out together holding hands?"

She rolled her head towards him.

"I want to walk out of here and go home."

His intense dark eyes rested on her for a long time.

"Are you in love with her?"

His eyes were still on Vic when he said it. He was met with silence.

"Walt? Are you in love with her?"

"Yep."

Walt was looking at Vic when he said it. Her eyes were focused on him.

"Do you tell her that?"

"Not as often as I should."

"No one ever says it as often as they should."

8:05 PM

"Just put the gun down, son."

The young man shook his head vehemently.

"Don't call me son. I hate it when people do that."

Walt nodded.

"I just don't want anyone else to get hurt."

"Except me. Bet you wouldn't mind that."

"I don't want you to get hurt. I want you to think about what you're doing here and how this could end if you don't make the right choices. You heard the sirens. The police are outside now. More will come. They're not going to be concerned about you. Only us. They know shots have been fired. It's only a matter of time before they take action."

"Shut up, man! I'm trying to think."

"Then think about how you can end this. That man needs medical assistance. He's lost a lot of blood. You, at least, need to let him out."

The young man shook his head.

"No one leaves. No one comes in. They come in here and everyone is gonna die."

Walt studied the young man.

"I don't think you mean that. You don't seem like you really want to kill anyone."

A flash of anger crossed the young man's face. He closed the distance between himself and Vic and jerked his forearm around her neck, jerking her tightly against him. He faced Walt and moved the gun so that it was pointing at her temple. Walt stiffened. He could see the familiar look cross Vic's face. He knew she was having the same sense of deja vu that he was.

"Are you sure about that and are you willing to risk her life on it?"

9:30 PM

The phone was ringing again. He still hadn't answered it. Walt swallowed and kept glancing at the door. He knew they would only reach out so many times. A peaceful solution was always desired. At some point, they would assume complete hostility and take action. He figured the state police would probably be here. Cady would have called for backup. This was a lot for a novice Sheriff to handle. This was a lot for a veteran Sheriff to handle.

"Still not answering?"

Greg shook his head.

"All they're gonna do is act like they're my best friend. They don't know me. They don't know anything."

Walt's eyes returned to the door. If the police came barging, there would be casualties. Greg, for sure. Maybe even he, Henry, or Vic. Sometimes, shots were fired first and questions were asked later. He had seen a lot of situations turn bad over his tenure in law enforcement. He watched Vic. Her head was leaned against the wall. Her eyes were only half open but he knew she was paying attention.

"You know eventually they'll come through that door. They won't be willing to offer you anything at that point."

Greg nodded slowly.

"I've thought about that. I'm not afraid to die."

"That's your business but there are other people in here. You don't seem like a bad guy but you're making some bad choices. There's no reason to take other people down with you."

Walt could see him mulling over the words. He lifted the gun towards Walt and gestured towards Henry.

"I want you to take your friend and leave."

Walt sat confused.

"Take him and go."

He rose at the same time Walt did. Vic started to rise but Greg shook his head.

"No. You stay."

Walt stopped.

"No, Greg."

Greg shook his head in frustration.

"I am the one with the gun. I am the one giving orders. Take Henry here and leave. He's not looking so good."

Walt could feel a sinking feeling in his gut. He looked to Vic, who eyes looked as unsure as he felt. She stood slowly.

"Take Henry and go."

Walt shook his head.

"I'm not leaving you here."

For the first time, his voice gave away his uncertainty.

"Walt, go. I'll be fine."

Greg approached her.

"Yeah, she'll be fine."

"Let her take Henry and leave. I'll stay in here with you."

"No, go."

Walt tensed up. Vic placed a hand on his arm.

"He's unconscious, Walt. I can't get him out anyway. Take Henry and get him to the hospital."

"Vic, I'm not leaving..."

"This is sweet and all but it ain't your choice, man."

Greg was getting antsy now.

"Walt."

Her voice was the only thing he was hearing. Leaving her was unthinkable but so was what might happen if this went south now. He wanted to believe that this kid didn't have it in him to kill but years of experience had taught him you could never tell what another person was capable of until it happened. He looked over to Henry. He was out. He needed medical care. He moved his gaze back to Greg and nodded.

"Don't hurt her."

It was almost a whisper but there was an edge behind it with an edge sharper than any knife. Greg's eyes fixated on his briefly before he turned away.

"Go."

Walt walked over and hauled Henry to his feet. Henry's head lolled and his eyes opened slowly. He glanced at Walt. Walt supported him and started for the entrance to the bar. He turned and cast one last glance at Vic. Another moment flashed through his mind and he was seeing her though the glass of a car window driving away. Away from him.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5

9:46 PM

"Looks like it's just you and me now."

He offered her what looked like a sincere smile.

"You know you have to let me go at some point, right?"

His smile faded.

"How about a little gratitude?"

"Gratitude. For holding me hostage?"

Vic couldn't even disguise the incredulity in her.

"I let your friends leave. Shouldn't that count for something."

Vic walked over to a table and sat down.

"What would count for something is you putting that gun down and walking outside to give up."

"You want me to go to jail?"

"I want you to live."

He eyed her.

"Do you really?"

"Yes. I've seen a lot of death the past couple of years. It wears on you after a while."

"I've seen a lot of death too. More than anyone should ever see. I want to tell you, though, I've never killed anyone."

Vic nodded.

"I know that."

"How?"

"Trust me. It's obvious."

He sat in silence for a minute.

"I do trust you, Vic."

He paused.

"I wish we'd met before all this. I think you would like me."

x

"Dad, are you okay?"

Cady all but ran to Walt as he relinquished Henry to a pair of paramedics. He looked back at the Red Pony.

"Yeah, Vic is still inside. He would only let me bring Henry."

"It's only one?"

"Yeah. One guy."

"I called in back up and they're wanting to make a move."

Walt shook his head.

"Not with Vic still inside."

x

"Are you in love with him?"

Vic nodded.

"Yes."

He sighed deeply.

"I had me a girl once but she wasn't faithful. Not as pretty as you either."

Vic offered him a consoling smile.

"Greg, why don't you hand me both guns and let's walk out of here together."

"I lied earlier. I am afraid of dying."

"They won't kill you if you do it right. Give me the guns. Both of them and we'll walk out together. I'll make sure they know you're not armed."

He swallowed.

"I didn't think it would be this hard. I figured you waved a gun, got money, and left. I've heard other guys brag about how easy it is."

Tentatively, she reached out and touched his forearm. He looked down at her hand and then back at her face. He placed his own rough hand over hers. His eyes shifted back to their joined hands. He ran his thumb lightly over her skin and nodded.

"I'm sorry, Vic. For all this."

He slid the gun into her hand and pulled the other from his waistband. He offered her that one. Once she had them both she stood up and held out her hand to him.

'Come on."

He took her hand and followed her to the door. She sensed his hesitation and turned to him.

"Are you sure? It'll be okay?"

"Yeah. They'll have you get down on the ground and they will arrest you. As long as you do what you're told, you'll be all right."

He nodded. His eyes had a slightly glazed look to them. The cool air was a shock after the warmth of the bar for so long. It had gotten dark. Several marked and unmarked cars sat in the parking lot, which had long been cleared of unofficial vehicles. The light from headlights hit them almost immediately. He hesitated again and Vic tugged at his arm. Vic scanned the faces. She immediately saw Cady, Ferg, Zach. Walt was slightly behind Cady. State police were also there. Cady must have called them for backup. Almost instantly, she could hear an unfamiliar voice start barking orders.

"Show us you hands."

Greg started to extend his arms but stopped. He took one step forward and then one step back.

"I can't."

He stopped. Vic turned.

"Don't."

She heard the pleading tone in her own voice. He took another step back. The voice again demanded he get down.

"Greg."

He cast a woeful look at her and started to back away.

"I can't."

He moved his hands toward his jacket. Again the disembodied voice.

"Don't move!"

Vic turned away from him.

"He's not armed! He's not armed!"

"Don't move!"

He hands continued towards his jacket and a single shot rang out.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

10:04 PM

The world was blur of noise and light. Walt shoved through the swarm of police and pulled Vic off to the side. She pushed at him trying to see. He was stronger and more determined. Walt placed his hands on her face and tilted it up towards his.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah..."

She turned back towards the growing crowd around Greg's still form on the ground.

"Vic, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

She pulled away as Cady approached.

"Vic, are you..."

Vic cut her off.

"I'm fine."

She handed the guns to Cady.

"One is mine. It was never fired. The other is the one he brought in."

She turned away before either Cady or Walt could speak again. By the time she reached his side, his eyes had fixed still open, his mouth still agape. Vic lowered her head.

"I told you he wasn't fucking armed."

She wasn't even sure who she was talking to but several of the state officers looked her way. One stepped forward. It was obvious he was in charge.

"We just saved your life, ma'am."

"No you took his. I told you he wasn't armed, goddammit. Son of a bitch."

The officer stiffened. Suddenly Walt was there, hands on her arms steering her away.

"Let them do their jobs, Vic."

She shook him off.

"I told him they wouldn't kill him. I told him to trust me."

Her face grew dark with anger.

"Vic..."

Her throat burned and constricted with pent up emotion. She shook her head again, her voice breaking.

"I told him to trust me and he would be okay."

12:11 AM

The Bronco rolled up in front of the cabin. Walt turned off the engine and looked across the dark space at Vic. She was staring out the window. Trails of moisture ran down her cheeks under both eyes. She looked as tired and ragged as he felt.

"Vic?"

She gave no indication that she heard him. She continued to stare out the passenger window. Walt reached out and touched her shoulder gently. She startled at the contact and tuned her bleary eyes towards him.

"We're home."

Silently she got out and went inside the cabin. Walt tossed his hat and coat aside.

"Why don't you get shower and get into bed."

He noticed how hollow her eyes seemed when she looked at him.

"Were you able to get any news on Henry?"

"Yeah, he's fine. Lost a lot of blood but he's going to be okay."

Vic nodded and went wordlessly into the bathroom. Walt sat on the couch and rested his head in his hands. He heard the shower turn on. He was still sitting when he heard the shower turn off. He sensed her before he saw her. She stood there watching him silently wearing a thermal top and pajama pants. It struck him as odd. She was in the habit of wearing one of his shirts to bed unless it was particularly cold.

"Are you cold? I can build a fire."

She shook her head. He stood up and approached her slowly. Her dark eyes followed him. He stopped right in front of her. He was so close she could feel his breath.

"This wasn't your fault."

She said nothing but looked as though she were digesting his words. She looked down at the floor and then back up to Walt's face.

"I told him he would be okay."

The words hung in the air as she turned and went into the bedroom.

12:52 AM

By the time Walt had showered and came to bed, she was asleep, curled on her side away from him. He sat on the bed watching her sleep. The rise and fall of her chest and the light sounds of her breathing were like the sweetest music he could have heard. He didn't have words for the dread that had filled him when he had taken Henry and left her alone with an armed man. He reached out and brushed hair away from her face. Leaning over, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead and then stretched out next to her. Walt lay in the dark. He wanted to hold her. He wanted her to curl up in his arms like she was normally so fond of doing an fall asleep on him. He was loathe to wake her so he lay there wondering why this was impacting her so severely. What had happened in the time he had and Henry had left and time she and Greg had emerged.

He had no idea how long he lay there. As exhausted as he was, he couldn't find sleep. Vic's sleep was restless. She moved and moaned and mumbled things he couldn't understand. Walt whispered to her in the dark. He ran his hand over her back and her hair trying to calm her, to lull her into a dreamless sleep. He knew she was having nightmares. He knew the nightmares were just beginning.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks to everyone for the reviews and support. This is the last part of this story. I had not originally planned to do a sequel but it seems necessary for the evolution of the larger plot lines so it's not really the end.

Ch. 7

3 Days Later

The weather was dreary. A cold, drizzly rain had set in making everyone grumpy and short tempered. Walt stood with Vic at the fresh grave, mud clumping the bottom of his boots. He pulled his hat down low on his head to block some of the rain. She stood with her hands shoved deep in the pockets of her jacket, staring at the fresh dirt. Quiet was never something he had associated with Vic until the past few days. Even after her miscarriage, she had talked her way through it, after the initial shock had worn off. The last 3 days she had been quiet. Eerily quiet. It struck him that it was her voice now that broke the silence.

"What kind of person doesn't want to bury their own child?"

Walt shifted from one foot to the other, his boots sinking slightly into the muck.

"I don't know."

His voice was quiet. He always felt like he should speak softly among the dead, as though he might disturb their rest. She let out a deep sigh. Walt grasped her arm lightly and gave it a gentle tug.

"C'mon. Let's get out of this weather."

She cast one last look at the grave and followed him to the Bronco. Once inside the vehicle, he turned up the heat and pulled out.

"So what's the investigation saying?"

Walt kept his eyes steadily on the road. Vic had not been to work since the shooting, except to give a statement, as he and Henry had. Walt, himself, had spoken to Cady.

"The father was the only living relative. He's refuses to have anything to do or cooperate with the investigation. Mother died when he was young. Nine, I think."

He glanced at Vic. Her eyes remained focused on the passing landscape.

"He'd actually been running with a pretty nasty crowd. State police have have been coordinating with surrounding states trying to catch them. Gang, I guess. They started out robbing stores but have graduated to banks. They're acting like this is a pretty big feather in their caps. What they're not saying is that he was on the fringes and had been trying to leave the area, possibly to get away from the whole mess. They don't even have any evidence he had participated in any of the group's robberies. Based on his inexperience, I'd say not."

Vic nodded.

"That would explain why he was so desperate."

"Yeah."

"Is anyone even looking into the fact that he was unarmed?"

"Vic..."

"Of course not"

Walt sighed.

"Vic, he wasn't exactly an innocent victim. He shot Henry. That easily could have been you."

"I know that, Walt."

Her voice was sharp, anger rising up in her tone.

"I'm just...I'm so tired of all the death. We arrest people all the time who don't give a shit about what they do or who they do it to. And, here, you have a young man who wanted to make a break. I know he didn't go about it the right way but...that doesn't mean he should be dead for it. Twenty-six years old, Walt. He still had his whole life ahead of him."

Silence descended over them as Walt pulled the Bronco up to the cabin. They both sat, not moving. Finally, Walt spoke.

"Cady wanted to know when you were coming back to work."

Vic looked at him then, her dark eyes reflecting the skies.

"I don't know if I am."

Walt looked out the windshield, trying to maintain a neutral composure.

"That's something you should probably take some time to think about before you make a decision."

She continued to sit, so he sat in silence. Finally, she spoke.

"I'm sorry, Walt."

"For what?"

"For not being present with you these last few days. I know you went through this, too. You and Henry, both."

She looked down at her hands.

"I just don't know how to process it. I promised him he would be okay, that he would be safe with me. Isn't that why we all supposedly became police in the first place? To help people and keep them safe? It seems so simple on paper. No one tells you about all the shades of gray in the world. No one tells you that sometimes right and wrong don't necessarily add up. Sometimes, the bad guys are the victims and the good guys aren't so good."

"Vic, I know you were working through this. You don't have to apologize. I'm fine. I was more worried about you."

She smiled vaguely.

"You're such a selfless person, Walt. You always worry about everyone else. I get so wrapped up in my own pain, I can't see other people's. Sometimes...sometimes I wonder why you even love me. Sometimes, I think that you could find some one more worthy of you."

"Vic..."

She waved him off and opened the Bronco door.

"I'm not looking for reassurance or for you to tell me that I am a good person. I'm just telling you the truth."

Before he could respond, she had gotten out and went into the cabin. Walt trailed her in, removing his coat and setting his hat aside. He started a fire in the fireplace to fight the lingering chill in the room and then lowered himself to the couch. The past few days had been exhausting and he wished they could go for a period of time without this darkness that seemed to hover over them. At times, it seemed inescapable. Vic emerged from the bedroom, in sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt. She sat on the couch next to him and tucked herself into his side. It warmed him from the inside out in a way a fire never could. She rested her head on his shoulder. He slid one arm around her shoulders and used the other to stroke her face and hair. He felt her relaxing into him with the calm, steady movements.

"You are a good person."

His voice was barely audible.

"I think, Vic, that you feel too much and it overwhelms you. It's not that you don't see other people's pain, you take it on yourself and it becomes your pain. You hide behind this tough exterior, but I see you. I've always seen you."

He felt her inhale and exhale in a sigh.

"I don't think I want to go back to work right now. I think I need some time to decide if this is still what I want to do. I love my job, Walt, but there's just so much sadness and so much death. I think maybe I need a break from it."

"I understand that. Trust me."

She sat up and looked at him.

"I want to go home."

He gave her a puzzled look.

"To Philly."

An old dread started to claw it's way into his gut, wrapping itself around his insides and squeezing so tightly he could barely breathe.

"Okay."

She seemed to sense his hesitation and smiled.

"For a visit. Wyoming is home now but Philly will always be my first. You know?"

The tension coiled inside him eased it's grasp and he could feel himself settling down.

"Yeah."

She paused a long time before she continued.

"I think that I should go alone."

Walt swallowed an instant protest.

"I just...I need some time, Walt. Like when you went on your treasure hunt. I need to find a way to move beyond this and I have to do it on my own."

Walt tried not to frown and nodded his head slowly.

"If that's what you want."

"It's what I need. You're mad..."

"I'm not mad. I understand."

She sat up and smiled at him. He tried to reflect her happiness but it was hard for him. Vic got up to get her laptop, mumbling about booking a flight. He noticed a slight ease in the tension she had been carrying. He sat, looking over her shoulder, while she typed away at her computer, commenting on this and that. Finally she snapped it closed and stood up. Vic extended her hand to him. Walt took it and rose to meet her.

End


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